


for now we are young

by orphan_account



Category: Fake News RPF, Late Night Host RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, First Kiss, M/M, but this tag is dry af, reciting of poetry, the cheesiest bullshit you'll read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26187895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “It could be something incredible,” Stephen suggested with a tinge of hopefulness.“Or not.”
Relationships: Stephen Colbert/Jon Stewart
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	for now we are young

**Author's Note:**

> back at it again with the embarrassing fanfic that i couldn't bear to read over. i wrote like half of this while drunk. if you read this... no you didn't <3

When the power cut out, it took Jon by no surprise. _Of course,_ he thought, _of fucking course._ What else is gonna happen when you work as a busboy at a shitty bar and grill in shitty New Jersey and you’re the last one cleaning up? He always had the worst of luck. 

Except he wasn’t the last one there— not really. A guy named Stephen who sulked around from time to time was poking his head frantically into the kitchen where Jon had been washing the last of the dishes before the darkness suddenly surrounded him.

“Uh, I was just leaving,” Stephen said timidly from the doorway, then added, “I think the power went out?”

Jon knew Stephen, sort of. They spoke briefly whenever Jon served him his meal. From what he could gather, Stephen was from one of the Carolinas (North or South, he couldn’t remember) and always wore the most hideous sweaters. He was soft-spoken and incredibly polite; the kind of kid you’d punch in the gut if you needed an extra dollar. Their past interactions were all civil and generally positive, but at that particular moment, Jon just didn’t want to deal with him. What he wanted was to fix the power outage and get the hell out so he wouldn’t be held responsible in the morning.

“What do you fucking think, man?” Jon threw down his apron and made his way over to the junction box. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he was met with clumps of intertwining wires covered in layers of accumulating dust. Then it dawned on him that, yeah, he had no idea what he was doing. It was futile, so he slammed the box shut, surprised to see Stephen still standing by the door. 

“Why are you still here?”

Stephen gestured for Jon to follow him out of the kitchen and over to a window. Together, they peered through the fogged glass to find the streets completely dark. It was a sight Jon had never seen before— not in this city, anyways. 

“Looks like the outage goes on for a few blocks,” Stephen said after a moment, his forehead resting against the window as he squinted into the distance.

“You think it’s across the city? Like a blackout?”

“We could find out.”

Before he could ask him what he meant, Stephen was already leading him out of the restaurant and Jon felt as if he were in some translucent daze, compelled by Stephen and unable to deny him. He didn’t protest; he only mumbled, “I gotta lock the door, Stephen,” when he found himself being pulled outside.

Stephen was strange like that. For a boy with such few words, he still managed to have this urgency that made it impossible to say no. Jon felt oddly mesmerized by the enthusiasm that bubbled just beneath the surface of his introverted exterior. 

Out on the sidewalk, Jon noticed the absence of the restaurant’s glowing neon sign. No lights were visible for as far as he could see. 

Next to him, Stephen seemed to be in just as much awe as he was. “I guess I finally know what they mean when they call it the city that never sleeps.”

“That’s what they call New York.”

Stephen shrugged then disappeared around the back of the restaurant.

“What are you doing?” Jon asked, following him dutifully, but Stephen didn’t reply. Instead, he climbed on top of the dumpster by the back exit and began reaching for the latter that led to the roof. Jon stared blankly down the darkened alley, unsure of whether or not to join him. 

“Are you coming?” Stephen offered a hand, a mischievous smile plastered on his face. The guy had a lot of nerve.

You see, it wasn’t that Jon didn’t like Stephen, it was that he didn’t _know_ him. Meeting people was… hard. He was nineteen and ready to leave his cruddy job and the filthy city behind him. Just a few more paychecks and he’d be out, so why bother making friends? His friends never seemed to last, anyway. It was just easier to keep to himself.

But there was just something about Stephen.

Jon looked down at his sneakers, forward at the road, and then up at Stephen’s glowing expression. What the hell did he have to lose?

Maybe everything.

“Yeah, okay.”

When they both made it to the top of the restaurant, the skyline was unlike anything Jon had ever witnessed. He’d seen the city from up high before, but never without hundreds and thousands of lights glimmering back at him. Now, a blanket of darkness covered most of his hometown and the only visible lights were as distant as the stars in the sky.

Stephen walked over to the edge of the rooftop and looked directly down at the street below him. “Wanna see?”

“I’m good,” Jon said uneasily, “I don’t enjoy the standing at the ledge of tall buildings. Not a hobby of mine.” Dry wit would bail him out. It always did.

“You’re scared of heights?” 

“Sort of. I mean, yeah, a little bit.”

Stephen took one last look below then walked back to Jon. “But you came up here with me,” he said, not quite a question nor a statement.

Jon shifted the weight of his feet and swallowed, “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“I’m glad. There’s lots of stuff to see up here, Jon!” Stephen boomed sarcastically, “such as… whatever I just stepped on over there.” 

Jon, with his eyes well-adjusted to the evening’s darkness and the city’s foreign slumber, retraced Stephen’s steps partway before spotting something on the ground. Upon leaning over for further inspection, he announced with both amusement and disgust, “It’s a condom.” 

Stephen snorted, “No way.”

“No, it is! It’s a fucking condom!” 

Stephen crouched next to him, “What do you think…” he trailed before they both erupted in laughter over the absurdity of the situation. 

Then they were silent. Jon hated uncomfortable silences. Instinctively, he shoved a hand into his coat pocket to retrieve a cigarette,

“Want one?”

“No, I don’t smoke.”

“Suit yourself,” Jon shrugged and flicked his lighter before taking a long drag. The silence was more bearable now, maybe even comfortable.

“It looks like a good portion of the city is out of power,” Stephen said after a while, his gaze fixed skywards.

“What do you think caused it?”

“My money is on a bald eagle lugging a deer head and crashing into transmission lines.”

Jon coughed, then they were laughing again. When Stephen went to sit closer to the edge, Jon joined him cautiously. 

They stared down below them as Stephen fondly discussed how calmer the city felt in the darkness.

“God, I hate this place,” Jon found himself saying without a filter. It was on his mind constantly— no harm in finally saying it to someone, he figured. “I wanna move far away from here, maybe on a farm or something.”

“A farm?” Stephen repeated and Jon realized with embarrassment how ridiculous he sounded. 

“I mean—” but there wasn’t any use in retracting the statement. It was true. In fact, it was ideal, but his rationality already knew what his future had in store: college, debt, and being enslaved to capitalism. “I just wanna get away from this place, I guess.”

“A farm sounds nice,” Stephen said honestly.

“It’s stupid.”

“I’m going to major in Philosophy. _That’s_ stupid, Jon. What the hell will I do with that?”

Jon scrunched his nose in thought, “Philosophize?” 

Stephen chuckled at that before regaining his composure. “For real,” he resumed, “do you mind me asking what’s holding you back?”

“From what?”

“Leaving.”

Jon swallowed the lies that instinctively formed on his tongue. It wouldn’t hurt to be honest for once, would it? “I’m scared.”

He could feel as Stephen shifted next to him. “What are you scared of?”

Jon looked up at the stars he could still see with the city’s pollution and took a deep breath, “I hate it here, but I guess I’m just scared that once I leave, it won’t ever be the same if I come back. The chapter ends.” As much as he actively loathed the places, the people, and the memories, a part of him was hesitant to let go of something he had grown so familiar with.

“What’s wrong with a new chapter?”

“Nothing. It just feels weird to turn a page that you’ve been lingering on for so long when you haven’t got a clue of what the next one has in store.”

“It could be something incredible,” Stephen suggested with a tinge of hopefulness.

“Or not.”

When Stephen turned to face him, Jon could feel his heart hammering in his chest. “‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite the sounding furrows; for my purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset, and the baths of all the western stars, until I die.”

“Who said that?” Jon asked, bewildered.

“Alfred Lord Tennyson. Ulysses wants to travel to new places because he believes that there’s still so much left for him to gain.”

“Who the hell is Ulysses?”

Stephen thought for a moment then changed his tactic, “Life is a constant search for adventure, experience, and meaning. Living isn’t merely a matter of breathing to stay alive, it’s taking risks to discover the margins of an untravelled world. To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield— you’ve never heard that before, Jon?”

But all Jon could do was stare at the enigma that sat beside him. Stephen’s words echoed in his head like a sacred mantra only for his ears.

Stephen was beautiful— really, he was. He had this unmistakable charm and at that moment, the timid Catholic boy who didn’t like the crust on his sandwiches was quickly becoming Jon’s entire world. He found himself feeling ridiculously compelled to kiss him.

“Jon?” Stephen adjusted his glasses, noticing his abrupt silence.

It would be reckless, but there was just something about him that drew Jon infinitely closer until his lips ghosted over Stephen’s and a shuddering breath escaped him, “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice quivering. 

Barely above a whisper, Stephen responded, “I’d like that.”

Jon didn’t believe in God. His Jewish upbringing had been informal and only on rare, existential occasions would he contemplate the existence of a supreme being. But when his lips urgently met Stephen’s and their noses brushed gently, he could swear he could sense some sort of godly presence among him. Stephen felt soft and sweet against Jon’s chapped lips and the contrast between them was a perfect balance of tender and coarse. His delicate hands held Jon’s calloused ones, whose cheeks burned in response to the unfamiliar affection. Stephen felt almost _too_ good for him-- too divine, too soft, too pure.

Stephen held his face as he pulled back and Jon stared into his eyes to find a warmth behind them that he had never seen before, inexplicably familiar and beckoning him closer in a way that felt like home.

“What?” Stephen asked shyly, looking up at him beneath long lashes.

“I think I’m ready to start a new chapter,” Jon kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> it's MY fanfic and i WILL project onto the characters!


End file.
